


It's A Broke Day But Everything Is Okay

by InGenius88



Series: He's just my Nightmare I woke up to [1]
Category: Eminem (Musician)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bottom Marshall, Cheating, First Time, Hair Kink, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Self-Worth Issues, Sex with Best Friend, Too Much Talking, Top Proof
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 08:01:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21442885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InGenius88/pseuds/InGenius88
Summary: It's 1989 and Marshall has been going out with his girlfriend Kim for a while, but their relationship is a little rocky. One night, after he and Kim had a fight again, he goes to his best friend for comfort. DeShaun always lets him stay over and also, DeShaun is always there for him. Even now, DeShaun's there for him and has an idea on how fo fix the problem of Marshall's virginity.Archive Warning Underage: They are 17 and 16 years old respectively.
Relationships: Eminem/Proof
Series: He's just my Nightmare I woke up to [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1508723
Comments: 16
Kudos: 36





	It's A Broke Day But Everything Is Okay

The sky was pitch black, so was the street. The street lights flickered around here, more off than on and Marshall shuffled along the sidewalk. His ribs hurt, his shoulder ached and he wasn't sure, if the scratches on his neck still bled or not. But he shuffled along, his feet knew the way. If he stopped now, he'd probably just drop down and wouldn't stand back up again.

The porch light was busted, when he climbed the few stairs up to the door. The house lay silent and dark. It was Tuesday and 3 o'clock in the morning, of course the neighborhood was asleep.

Marshall knocked on the door. With his forehead he leaned against the wood and wished, somebody inside had heard him. He was cold and hurt and tired and downhearted. This was the only place he felt safe. If the door would open, that was. He knocked again.

"Who's there?", came a sleepy voice from inside.

Marshall sighed with relief. "It's me", he answered hoarse.

The door opened. Marshall couldn't brace his body in time to not fall, but DeShaun's arms caught him like they always did. "Hey, you okay?", he asked hushed and pulled Marshall inside.

"I'm fine", he said out of habit, not because it was true. Supported by his best friend's arms he stumbled into the bedroom. Marshall fell on the couch, that felt so much more like home than the house his mom lived in. "Fight with Kim", he explained and kicked off his shoes. "Can I stay the night?"

"Course. You need anything?" DeShaun unfolded the blanket and draped it over him.

Marshall shook his head, "Just wanna sleep." He pulled the blanket up and lay down, gasping at the pain in his ribs. For a short moment, there was a hand brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.

Then DeShaun went back to his own bed only a few steps away. The light went out.

It was hard for Marshall to find a comfortable position, but he finally settled down on lying on his side, facing the cushions. Not because it was snug and cozy like this - it wasn't, his hurt shoulder strained under the pressure of his weight - but because he felt like crying and didn't want to do that to DeShaun's face. His best friend wouldn't think less of him, he knew that, but Marshall still felt like a loser. He buried his face deeper into the pillow and pulled the blanket up higher. Hiding wasn't a solution, but it was the only thing he knew how to do. Be the invisible kid, in that he had years of practice. When a sob tried to escape his lips, he pressed his knuckles in its way. What was one more body part that hurt? He barely noticed.

"I know you ain't sleeping", soft words in the darkness.

Marshall decided not to answer. In all likelihood his voice was thin and trembling, not worth listening to.

DeShaun sighed quietly. "Not to be a dick, but ... you need to break up with her."

"I can't", he whispered, voice breaking. Rough he rubbed tears from his eyes.

"Of course you can. Say to her: 'we're over', and walk away", DeShaun explained. Marshall could practically see the worried frown on his friend's face just by the sound of his voice. "It's been more than half a year of this and it doesn't look like it's worth it."

But he shook his head, regardless that this wasn't visible in the dark room or with the blanket still over his head. "I can't. Who else'll take me?", someone as ugly and useless as him.

"What?", audible confusion.

Marshall sighed. "Look at me. Who wants that?" But he couldn't be without someone. "She's the only one, who'll have me." And he needed to have a girlfriend.

Footsteps on the carpet, then a hand on his shoulder. "Hey", DeShaun's soft voice so close to his ear, "That ain't true. You're a great person, you'll find somebody better than her."

Marshall wanted to pull his shoulder away, but it wasn't more than a twitch. "I won't. It wouldn't make a difference anyway."

The hand on his shoulder pushed gently and Marshall gave way, rolled on his back. In the darkness of the room, there wasn't much to see and the shadow of DeShaun's silhouette was just an imagination. But the warm hand wasn't, he was there and asked: "What happened?"

Marshall kneaded his lower lip between his teeth. Another rough rub of his palms over his eyes to make the tears go away. DeShaun never thought less of him, whatever weak or embarrassing or gloomy shit he confessed to him, they always stayed friends. "I can't do _it_. I know I'll have to eventually, but I just, I can't. And she runs out of patience with me."

A moment of silence before DeShaun asked: "Do it? You mean, it-it? I thought, you guys already had. I was actually pretty pissed, you hadn't told me yet."

"I can't. She wants to, like, really badly wants to, but ... I don't know. I can't. Then she gets angry with me, understandably. And we tried tonight, but I just can't bring myself." There was an invisible wall he couldn't cross with her. Of course he knew what it meant, but he wasn't willing to accept it. He needed her. But every fight over this made it harder the next time they tried. His body remembered the pain, expected the pain whenever they tried - whenever he failed.

"So she beats you up? Yeah, that'll get you in the mood", he snorted sarcastically.

Marshall shook his head. "She don't mean to. You know how it is, things get out of hand sometimes", his mouth said without his head believing the words.

"Oh, shut up." The hand on his shoulder nudged him chidingly. "You know better than this. That's a shitty excuse and it ain't true either. Your mom said the same thing and you told her to grow a spine."

Of course he knew better, but it didn't make a difference. If he broke up with her, he'd be single again and that he could not have. Too many questions, he couldn't answer. "It'll get better, when we did it. I just need to get over myself, that's all." As if optimism had ever been his strong suit.

A sigh. "You're a dumbass. She'll be your downfall some day, dude. But fine, if that's what you wanna do, I'll be with you." DeShaun moved to sit on the edge of the couch. "So then, what's the problem? Can't get it up?"

Marshall could hear the smirk in his best friend's voice and instinctively smirked back. There was always hope within DeShaun, it was contagious. "That ain't it. I mean, sometimes yeah, but no, not really. It's more like ... I don't know, I just can't. It's not just nervousness or that I'm kinda unsure what to do. I mean, I never gone that far before, so ... But it's more that ... I don't want it to be her, to be the first - I know, that's stupid and childish and shit. Ain't like first times mean anything or whatever. But ...", he shrugged helplessly.

The hand was back on his shoulder, a gentle touch. "That ain't stupid. They do mean something, you know."

Marshall snorted in derision. "Yeah, right. Disappointment and failure, that's what they mean."

A long, thoughtful exhale. "I get it", DeShaun said quietly. "I didn't want to do it with just anybody either. That just feels wrong ... I mean, it doesn't have to be the one true love, that'll be a bit much. But somebody you like, somebody you trust, that should be in the cards. Don't you think?"

Another shrug. Better than the sob, that was stuck in his throat.

"Do you trust her?"

No, he didn't, at least not in the way DeShaun was asking.

"Then, maybe she's not the best person for you."

Marshall grumbled: "I ain't breaking up with her."

"Ain't what I'm saying. You should, but you're a stubborn son of a bitch, so ... But maybe, if you can't do it with her, you need somebody else first? Somebody you trust, somebody who likes you."

With a pained grown Marshall sat up. "Who would that be? I don't know any other girl like that." Which wouldn't help. Even if he knew another girl, that liked him somehow, he still wouldn't want to do it with her.

DeShaun fell silent. A silence that grew heavy and charged, as if the darkness was bristling for a fight. A fight to take him down and make every last day of his this black, this hopeless. The silence spoke without a word and it was the cry of his agony. There wasn't anyone who could ever like him, they both knew it. Marshall swallowed hard.

"I know", DeShaun said low, "that you don't like girls."

Hard he shook his head. "No, you got that wrong. Of course I like girls. What else would there be? You have that wrong ..." Lying to DeShaun hurt so much. "I like girls." The sob finally broke loose.

A soft touch through his hair. "Marshall."

"You like girls", he said with the last bit of defiance he could muster tonight.

"I do. But you ain't me and that's okay. You're my best friend exactly the way you are." DeShaun's voice was all genuine and sincere.

Marshall let out a shaky breath. "You don't think it's ... gross or wrong or ... I don't know. I try not to ... I try to like her like that, you know, I really try, but ... I just don't like how it feels." The darkness absorbed his voice, the words only spoken for the two of them. Hearing himself say the truth out loud made his heart less heavy and his mind clung to DeShaun's sincerity to feel brave this once.

"I think, you're amazing and nothing's gonna change that. Ever." There was a smile in his friend's voice, one of reassurance.

Again Marshall rubbed over his eyes, but this time it wasn't out of shame. "You're not afraid to ... I don't know, catch it from me or some shit."

A soft chuckle. "That ain't a thing, dude. But no, I'm not afraid of you. You're my friend and I love you, I could never be afraid of you."

"Thank you", Marshall sighed in relief. He couldn't ever live with himself if DeShaun turned away from him. If he lost another best friend over this, if he lost more family because of this. But DeShaun never thought less of him, whatever weird shit he confessed. They would always be together. Then he added in a hurry: "But I don't love you or some shit like that, so don't worry, everything's fine. - That came out wrong. I mean, I do, you're my best friend, of course I love you, but not like that. I mean, I'm not in love with you or anythi-"

"Shut up, idiot." DeShaun nudged his chest again, a fond gesture. "I know that. I know you, dude, and I seen you having a crush, I know what that looks like."

That wasn't really as comforting as DeShaun meant it to be. "You have?"

"Of course I have. You seen me having a crush, too, no big deal."

"Easy for you to say." But for him that was a different story. He couldn't have a crush, not a real one anyway. That only ended in pain and not the one of a broken heart.

DeShaun shifted his position and leaned backward to actually sit on the couch. Marshall folded his legs in. "Probably. But what you wanna do? Hide it forever and stay with Kim until, I don't know, until one of you snaps and the other ends up in a ditch somewhere or some shit like that? That ain't a solution, man."

He sighed. "I know. But what else can I do? I gonna end up in a ditch somewhere, regardless what I do. Certainly if I actually be like this, I will. This way, I might get a chance to have a bit of a life first."

"That ain't a life", DeShaun huffed.

"Whatever. She gonna break up with me anyway, if I can't do it with her. So, no point in planning a future here." Not that he saw much of a future for himself, with or without her. Wasn't like school did anything for him, so that was a dead end. His rapping didn't go anywhere either and if he was honest, it probably never would. He had the rhyming skills, but he wasn't much of a showman and to make it in entertainment, that's something you needed. On top of that he was white, so at any rate people didn't take his rapping serious. Most probable future he had? A no-nothing job that barely paid rent and a wife he didn't want. Ending in a ditch somewhere didn't sound too bad at times.

"Pessimistic much? Sometimes it's really hard to help you."

Marshall shook his head and leaned is forehead against his knees. "You can't help me."

Through the denim of his jeans he felt a soft touch on his knee and DeShaun's hand stayed there warm and calm. "I'll always help you. Come on, let's do this step by step. There has to be something we can do. So, even though you have all the reasons to, you don't want to break up with her. Aight, got that. But she gonna break up with you, if you two don't get it on soon. I'm assuming, you don't want that, either, huh?"

He shook his head, sure that DeShaun didn't see that in the darkness of the night.

"Well, then you'll have to bang her somehow."

Marshall made a low groan.

He felt the cushions of the couch shift again. "If you don't want her to be your first ... who would you want?"

There was a short, frustrated laugh from Marshall. "There ain't no one. I don't know anyone who'll fuck me, except her and she's a girl. So, what's the point? I just have to get over this stupid thing and do it with her, if I want to or not."

"You're such a romantic."

Marshall shoved his foot against his friend's leg. "Shut up."

"You really think, it be easier for you, if you wouldn't be a virgin no more? I mean, she still be a girl, that don't change", DeShaun asked doubtful.

He shoved his friend again. "Don't say it like that."

"Oh, you shy?", DeShaun asked playfully.

"Man, I don't know. With my luck, it'd just make things worse. But ... I don't want it to be her, that's all I know." He knew himself well enough, he put meaning into these kinds of things, even when he knew he shouldn't. Her he didn't like enough to put this kind of meaning to. She was a nice, good-looking girl, but he wasn't in love with her.

The thumb on his knee stroked him gently and DeShaun said slowly: "I have an idea ... You can tell me off, though." Another shift of the couch cushions. Then a hand stroked through his hair again. Full lips on Marshall's, not more than a fleeting touch.

Marshall blinked into the darkness. "What the ...?" But DeShaun was silent. "You just ..." Did he fall asleep and was dreaming now? "Can't be real." Could it?

"Worth a shot?", DeShaun suggested, his hand still buried in Marshall's hair.

Marshall snorted angrily and swatted the hand away. "I don't need your pity."

DeShaun sighed, their faces still close, he could feel their breaths mingle. "You really are an idiot sometimes." He leaned his forehead against Marshall's. "You plan on hiding this for your entire life and be miserable forever ... I don't want that for you, you deserve to be happy. You're my best friend and I hate to see you hurt. If I can't change your mind about her, I might at least help you to have a first time you can like the memory of. Can't imagine she leaves good memories behind."

"But you like girls. I ain't a girl." Marshall was confused.

An amused huff. "Don't you think, I know that?"

Marshall snapped his mouth shut. Hard to argue against that, of course DeShaun already knew that. Which made his offer a little weird, didn't it? If Marshall had been a girl and had this kind of a relationship trouble, the offer would make so much more sense. Deflowering a girl had appeal, even the word had poetry to it; but a guy? He should know how to do this and he shouldn't get a hang-up about who he did it first with. It was just sex, that's what should matter. How did DeShaun come up with this idea in the first place? He liked girls, Marshall wasn't one and he didn't look like one and even for a guy he didn't look particularly nice. Someone straight shouldn't offer to sleep with him, not even a best friend, right? "Maybe I did infect you?"

The hand ruffled his hair. "Maybe you need to shut up." Then DeShaun kissed him again, longer this time but tender and tame. Then he asked: "So, what you think?"

Marshall licked over his lips, feeling the remnants of the kiss on them and there was an impression of more. "I definitely infected you." Another nudge against his chest. "But ... Are you serious?", he asked in a hushed voice, almost didn't dare to speak those words. Right now, there was no one in his life he loved more - platonically, but still - or trusted more than DeShaun and even though it seemed weird, it also seemed to make a whole lot of sense.

"Just say, what you really want, Marshall", his best friend pushed. "Do you want your first time to be with her? Or do you want it to be with a guy? It doesn't have to be me."

"Now, you're the one who needs to shut up", Marshall replied and it was his turn to kiss his friend. Their lips moved against each other. Of course this wasn't his first kiss, but a flash of nervousness lanced through his stomach as if it was. The hand in his hair was still warm, still calm and he liked it this way. Kim didn't touch him like this, she was sometimes gentle but not comforting.

DeShaun leaned closer in and Marshall's leg fell off the couch to give more space. The blanket stretched over his limbs. He didn't know what to do with his hands, he never knew, and they came to rest on his friend's arms. The skin was warm and he could feel the muscles underneath, a reminder that DeShaun could actually hold his own in a fight. He had even fought for Marshall a couple of times, as friends do.

Their lips parted, but their faces stayed close. "Come", a quiet command and from the way the cushions shifted again, DeShaun stood up from the couch. Almost was his shadow visible in the dark. But his hand reached for Marshall's and a careful pull lifted him from the couch. Marshall groaned low as his ribs protested against any movement, but DeShaun said: "Come here and you won't have to move again tonight."

Marshall followed to his friend's bed and it wasn't the first time he'd be lying there. They often sat there when they hung out, much more comfortable than the old couch. But now, this wasn't hanging out. As he sat down, he took a deep breath - both actions his bruised ribs didn't appreciate.

A gentle caress to his neck, another kiss to his lips. DeShaun leaned in slowly and Marshall gave way, coming to lie on the bed. A moment longer, then he felt a tongue licking over his lips and he opened for it. Cautious and explorative DeShaun's tongue entered. Of course his best friend knew him, noticed the signs of nervousness and awkwardness Marshall felt and as usual found a way to bring him past it - he was brash but his best friend had the courage. His hands came to rest on DeShaun's arms once more, his fingertips rubbing over the skin.

A hand in his hair again. Marshall really grew to like the feeling of it and leaned in to the touch. How did DeShaun know, he liked his head petted?

The other hand lay on his chest, the fabric of his t-shirt between their skin but it couldn't stop the burn he felt. The warm touch seeped through the cloth to his skin as if there wasn't a barrier. This was so different than making out with Kim and it was just a kiss. The fingers moved down his torso, with a light touch they ruffled up the t-shirt until they met skin.

Marshall flinched away. "I don't ...", he whispered, not knowing what he wanted to say exactly and trying to find the words to something unknown wasn't easy. Probably impossible. "You don't need to", he finally said.

A sigh. He felt the bed shifting under DeShaun's weight. "Close your eyes, light coming."

"Don't!" The lamp on the nightstand lit up. Marshall groaned, slapping his hands over his eyes. "Fuck, turn it down, man. Too bright."

"Give it a second", DeShaun said amused, sitting up between Marshall's legs.

Marshall blinked black spots from his vision and looked up to his best friend. "What did you do that for?" Now they could see, everything. The darkness had been comfortable.

"Take your shirt off."

Marshall sat up shocked. "What? No!" He held his ribs with a short groan.

DeShaun cocked his head. "No? You want to do it dressed? Don't be stupid."

"But", he tried to interject, but DeShaun's hands already pulled at the hem of his t-shirt. "I ain't a girl, you-", his t-shirt cut him off.

A sucked in hiss. "Fuck man, what did she do to you?" His friend's hand moved softly over the scratches on his neck and the bruises on his shoulder and ribs. "I'm down with the whole girls don't get punched thing ... but man, she's an exception. You can defend yourself, you know. You should."

Marshall shrugged with his shoulders. "What does it matter?" He shuffled to get off the bed again. "This is a dumb idea." But the dark hand on his chest held him back.

"It is probably, but ... This, what she does, that ain't - I don't know how else to help you, Marshall. The only thing I can do is give you what she ain't - what you deserve. You deserve someone being nice to you." DeShaun looked at him and his dark eyes gleamed with the reflection of the lamp. It looked like despair.

As a reply, Marshall sighed. "I don't deserve that. And besides, you're doing enough already as it is."

DeShaun's hand stroked through his hair again. "It's not about enough."

"Just forget it, aight. I appreciate the gesture, really, but ...", Marshall shrugged helplessly. It wouldn't work anyway, not for DeShaun and he didn't want to put that kind of struggle onto his friend.

DeShaun nodded and pulled the blanket up. "Your decision. We can just sleep, you need that anyway." Again, Marshall moved to get up from the bed and again, DeShaun stopped him. "Stay. You're hurt, you shouldn't move too much. Let's just sleep. And if you need anything, let me know."

The light went out again and they settled down under the covers, lying next to each other. Marshall mumbled "Night", but couldn't close his eyes. He tried to find a good position to sleep in, without moving his body too much. But every movement of his shifted the mattress and every position kind of hurt anyway. And now it felt weird lying next to DeShaun, even though this wasn't the first time they slept next to each other.

After a while, DeShaun rolled onto his side and his arm came to rest on Marshall's waist. It wasn't unusual for them to hug or touch each other in some way, after all they were best friends, close. But now it felt different. A flash of heat jolted through Marshall's stomach, because the arm felt really nice. A weight on his body that promised someone was there. He could even feel DeShaun's breath on his neck ... The tension in his limbs relaxed with every moment that passed like this.

Marshall closed his eyes. He snuggled more into the blanket and kind of into the arm, savoring the experience. Somehow the pain in his ribs seemed less now.

* * *

DeShaun smelled good, he never noticed that before. Fresh, a little bit minty, probably his body wash. Marshall rubbed his nose lightly against his friend's chest and placed a tender kiss on the warm skin. He could feel his friend's breath softly on his cheeks. The arm on his waist still lay there warm and cozy, as if this was how it should be.

He must've fallen asleep. As he opened his eyes just a slid, the light of dawn broke through the window. Everything in the room was a shade of grey.

"Hey sunshine ..." DeShaun's voice was sleepy and his eyes still closed, but the smirk was as bright as ever.

Marshall nudged the chest his hand was lying against. "Shut up", he grumbled, but smiled just the same. "Thanks for letting me stay. Again."

"Always." His fingertips on Marshall's back drew small circles. "You feel better? You should sleep some more, it's still early."

"Why ain't you sleeping, then?", Marshall asked. "Did I wake you? Sorry, I didn't mean to." He shouldn't keep DeShaun up unnecessarily. His friend didn't need to suffer from Marshall's weird sleeping habits. But lying this close it might be unavoidable, although Kim always slept through him being awake.

DeShaun squeezed his eyes open slowly. "Wasn't really sleeping, just dozing a bit."

"Sure. Nate says the same thing, ain't true either." But his little brother was awfully cute when he was fighting against sleep. "So, doze some more, it's still early." He should, too, but he just felt kind of awake right now.

DeShaun looked at him. His eyes jittered as if searching for something.

Fuck, were they close, Marshall realized, as their noses touched for a second. He bit his lower lip unsure with himself. "You ..." Still, he didn't know what he wanted to say.

"I can feel it, you know", DeShaun said with a certain undertone that heated Marshall's ears up. "You wanna handle that?"

Sometimes biology was a bitch. Marshall shuffled his body slightly away from his friend, but the warm hand stayed on his back anyway. "I, uhm ... I should go ..." But he didn't really want to leave this. This was nice. If DeShaun wouldn't make his stupid jokes. "Stop messing with me", he growled low.

His friend chuckled quietly. "Sorry, it's too easy, I can't help myself."

"Is that why you kissed me?", Marshall asked and hit his friend's chest again, but harder this time. "This ain't funny."

DeShaun shook his head, as much as lying down he could. "Of course not. I was serious about that." His fingers ran through Marshall's hair once more. What was that about anyway? "I _am_ serious."

"I can't ask that of you."

"You ain't. I am giving it to you. Freely", DeShaun insisted.

Marshall shook his head. "This is really nice, I wish I could ... but I ain't a girl and you only like girls. I can't make you do something, I cannot do myself." If he couldn't overcome his ... inclinations, how could he ask this of his best friend? Especially when he knew so well how hard it was.

"You ain't", DeShaun repeated. "I want to do this for you. If this can help you at all, I consider it the best thing I'll ever do. To make you happy, that ain't a chore or some shit, don't make it sound like one."

"You really could?", Marshall doubted that.

DeShaun kissed him once more, a light touch of their lips. "I can do everything for you."

Marshall smiled crooked. "You sound like a cheap soap opera. You gonna ask for my hand next or what?"

DeShaun responded with a smile of his own. "I have a rule, I don't marry as long as I can't legally drink on my own wedding."

"Smart", Marshall gave him that. Not that the legality of drinking ever deterred anyone. Also a first he had done with DeShaun. He was always by his side. Marshall sighed and had to look away. He saw his hand still resting on DeShaun's chest, moving ever so slightly with his breathing. Even in the grey of the dawn, the stark contrast of their skin shone. His hand seemed as white as the moon against the black gleam of a clear night sky that was DeShaun's body. Once Marshall had heard, the moon didn't shine himself and was but the color of an asphalt street, only because the night was so black could the moon appear so bright.

He reached out again and put his lips back on DeShaun's. Just once Marshall wanted to shine or at least appear as he could. His best friend believed he could, believed he deserved it even. His tongue licked over full lips. The kiss was slow and tentative, savoring and testing.

The hand on his back pulled him in close again, softly drawing circles over his skin. Goosebumps on his body, the good kind. The fingertips moved over his bruises lightly and barely touching and came to gently lie on his own chest. Involuntary Marshall sucked in air. "You don't ...", he wanted to say between their lips.

"It's fine, Marshall", DeShaun interrupted soothingly, another light kiss and more light touches. "It's fine, you can enjoy this. We both will, aight?"

He nodded briefly and kissed back. Enjoy this? He wrapped his arms around his friend's shoulders, pulling him in close as he rolled onto his back. The weight of DeShaun on top of him felt nice, enjoyable - right.

DeShaun cupped his hands around Marshall's jaw and deepened the kiss. He moved his lips over Marshall's and their tongues moved against each other, with each other. More sure, more impulsive, more willing than before. Without haste DeShaun rubbed their hips together, a ghost of what was to come.

Through the denim of his jeans, Marshall felt it hotly and sighed with quiet pleasure. His hands moved down the shoulders and the back, feeling the warm skin beneath his fingertips and that the body above him didn't have curves made everything better. He almost didn't notice how his knees bend out of the way to give DeShaun more space to grind their hips together. Or that his own hips answered with want. A hot flash pierced through his stomach as he felt their dicks touching, through cloth but undeniable. His hands gripped tight, but as his fingertips breezed over DeShaun's shorts, they recoiled.

"Shh", a soft sound between their lips. DeShaun loosened his grip around his jaw and laid one hand over Marshall's to guide him. "You totally can. That's the whole point of this."

And Marshall gripped tight again, gripped the ass of his friend and squeezed. The same happened now as with the kisses: it felt so much better than with Kim. She had lips and an ass, too, of course, gender didn't matter for that, but it still was different somehow. Maybe it wasn't gender but personality? They were both pushing a bit, but where DeShaun was pushing with consideration, Kim pushed with selfishness.

A soft kiss on his neck, where Kim had scratched him bloody. "Dude, gross", Marshall muttered.

"Oh, grow up", DeShaun replied, his lips still moving and his tongue licking over Marshall's skin, nibbling on his clavicle. His fingers stroked over Marshall's chest and pinched one of his nipples.

"That won't work, I ain't a gi-ah", Marshall started to say but it turned into a pleasured sigh. What? Another pleasured sigh as DeShaun licked and softly bit into it. He shoved his friend's head away. "Don't do that, that's weird."

DeShaun looked up and smirked. "It ain't." But he moved on regardless of these words, kissing and licking his way down Marshall's body and every new touch sent quick jolts through him. A tug at his belt, DeShaun opened the jeans and pulled them down - and Marshall helped getting himself out of them.

Now they were both almost naked and the thin textiles of their boxer shorts didn't really conceal anything. Arousal had struck both of them and that was blatantly obvious.

As Marshall saw that, he shot a small smile to his friend. Cautiously his hand reached out to remove the shorts from him. But his hand got distracted as it briefly breezed over DeShaun's hard-on and his fingers put themselves around it, stroked over the skin and explored the intricacies of it. He licked over his own lips, as he watched his fingers. Then he looked up to DeShaun and was eerily surprised. Did he do this? Eyes half closed, mouth half open and breath strained with a suppressed moan. A light, lively feeling filled Marshall's mind.

DeShaun pulled the hand away, his voice more raspy now. "You shouldn't ... Don't you wanna do something different?" A lick over full lips.

"I ... Yeah, but ... You're really into this, huh?" Marshall was a little surprised by this, more than a little actually. Why would anyone be into doing this with him?

DeShaun raised his eyebrows. "You touched my dick nicely, what'd you think?"

"Yeah, but I mean", he shrugged, "You really want me." When he spoke the last syllable, his heart fluttered and his stomach tightened.

One more kiss. "You think too much." Hands back on his skin. "Relax, Marshall." Their bodies touched everywhere. Perhaps DeShaun was right, he thought too much. So Marshall leaned into the kiss, into the touches and pushed his insecurities aside. This was his best friend, there was nothing to doubt, not even in himself.

They lost the last bit of their clothing and both of them moaned as the pressure of lying on top of each other rubbed their erections together. From a drawer of his nightstand DeShaun fetched a bottle of lube and a condom.

Marshall looked at both items skeptically. "You do this often?"

"I had a girlfriend until recently, you remember", DeShaun answered amused. "We did some stuff. It pays to be prepared."

"I know that", he huffed. "I listen to you. Sometimes. I'm just ..."

"Nervous?", DeShaun suggested helpful.

Marshall muttered under his breath, but was interrupted by another deep kiss. That was a very good way to be interrupted, he could get used to this. He moaned again as fingers stroked over one of his butt cheeks. It prickled and tingled and heat flushed his arteries.

"Hm, you like that?", DeShaun whispered musing. More pressure from his fingers, a squeeze, gentle caressing - testing what he liked.

And Marshall moaned again, loudly. He bit his lips to stop the sound.

A kiss on his neck, a whisper close to his ear. "Let yourself go." Then a wet finger between his cheeks, clearly looking for something. Finding it. Pushing in ...

"Wait", Marshall interjected, his hands shoving against DeShaun's shoulders. "That's ... I mean, uhm ... Come on, that's pretty gross, don't you think?"

"You want me to stop?"

He shook his head. "No, don't stop, just ... Dude, that's my ass."

"You seem to like it." DeShaun's eyes darted over his face. "You ever did this to yourself?"

Marshall wrinkled his nose. "Of course not."

"Maybe you should." A kiss with a smirk.

He looked at his friend doubtful. "You did this with your ex, too?"

"You're jealous now?" DeShaun's smirk turned into a chuckle. "No, her ass was off-limits. But it's not that different, you just need to be more careful is all."

Marshall wasn't entirely convinced. Also, that didn't actually address his point. He trusted DeShaun to not hurt him, obviously, he had never hurt him, ever. But the thought of the actual logistics here ...

His body trembled and he dug his fingers into DeShaun's shoulders. "Hey, I wasn't ready yet", he complained.

"Sometimes you need a little push", his friend responded. "You feel okay?"

Marshall nodded, to both statements. "It's kinda weird, though."

"Cause you're thinking too much." More kisses and their tongues together distracted him well, so did DeShaun's other hand on his body. It still felt weird, but in a good way. So clear, that DeShaun was moving into him, inside of him, deep and gentle and somehow that made all the sense in the world. Why would it be different? Marshall closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on this feeling for a moment. His life didn't have anything that felt good and right; except rapping of course. This was ... "What're you doing?" He opened his eyes again and looked to DeShaun. "I can feel you, Dude. You're trying to draw me a map for later or what?" He could feel the finger stroking him from the inside, deliberate but restless.

"Give me a sec, there's supposed to be a spot here ...", DeShaun replied and his face tensed in concentration.

Marshall blinked in confusion. What now? "Girls have a spot." So the rumor. But his friend was still searching, not hindered by his words. He wasn't even sure, if that had been an objection. Then gentle pressure and his whole body arched, his voice loud with surprise and delight and the heat in his veins gained more urgency and eagerness and heaviness. "Fuck was that?", he asked sucking in a breath.

DeShaun grinned at him bright and all teeth. "Found it."

He definitely found something. "How did you do that?" His hips already moved towards the finger. They should do it again.

"Ain't a secret, man. Will you relax now? I know, what I'm doing." He pushed Marshall down into the covers and moved his finger again.

Apparently, he knew exactly what he was doing and if Marshall's brain would be working, he'd probably be freaking out about this. But right now, he was too busy with all the sensations that flooded his body and mind: heat and delight and happiness and desire. This was amazing. Jerking off didn't come close, not even rapping felt this good. Who would've thought there was something better than music out there?

And when more fingers pushed inside him, it felt even better.

His muscles trembled under DeShaun's hand, that rubbed over his stomach and his sides. "You okay?"

Marshall nodded, panting. "I'm fine", this time he sincerely meant it.

A smile on DeShaun's lips, then he kissed him again. "Wanna go the next step?"

Another nod and a deep breath to collect himself again. "You have a trick for that, too?"

"No tricks." DeShaun shifted his position slightly and Marshall snuck a glance down. He swallowed slowly, realizing his friend was all set and ready for the next step. As always everybody was waiting on him. "But it might sting a little."

He raised his eyebrows, still looking down to his friend's erection. "A little? No kidding." A finger or two didn't measure up to that. The thought was equal parts frightening and exhilarating.

"Thanks for the compliment", DeShaun quipped, "Don't worry, you'll be fine. I promise."

Now he looked up to his friend's face, not hiding his doubt about those words. "You say that to all the girls?"

DeShaun smiled at him and kissed him once more, hands rubbing his hips gently. "Only to the girls I like."

"So charming of you", he replied with a smile of his own. He relaxed back onto the covers and pulled DeShaun with him, his hands around his friend's neck. He kissed him feverishly. "Fine, get your humongous thing in there."

"... It's not that big", DeShaun huffed between amusement and slight.

Marshall clicked his tongue. "It's bigger than mine, so", a shrug.

DeShaun put another kiss on Marshall's chest, before he moved on. Or more precisely: in, slowly and carefully.

Marshall would've assumed to feel more resistance. But the so-called little sting, that he felt loud and clear. "Shit", he hissed and his muscles tensed. He pulled at DeShaun's shoulders, digging his nails into the skin and buried his face in the crook of his friend's neck. "Fuck, dude ..."

"Shh", DeShaun nuzzled into his hair, "Shh, I got you." He put his arms around Marshall and rubbed his neck softly. "Breathe, shh."

Intense, that was one word for it. Marshall took a deep but shaky breath, "I'm fine ... It's fine ... It's - full." Another deep breath, less shaky. His fingers started to relax, less clinging and more caressing. "This is ... man", he ran a hand through his hair. "Like, you're inside of me ... and so full. I can feel you inside - fuck, and it's so much ... You fill me up. It's so ... fulfi-"

"Dude", DeShaun interrupted him disgruntled, "stop talking. This's weird even for you." Here Marshall's ears were, burning up like a wildfire. Did he say that out loud? "You like it, that's enough for me."

A sensual moan on Marshall's lips, as DeShaun started to move. He could go even deeper, fill him up more - how was that possible? He thought too much. So he concentrated on relaxing his body, on feeling the thrusting and everything that it brought with, on moving with his friend. That last was easy and hard at the same time: His body moved on its own, wanted more of these dizzying sensations, but he also wanted to make it just as nice for DeShaun and didn't know how to. His focus faded away, though, as more and more heat built up inside him, rushing his veins and bringing lust and pleasure and ecstasy to every one of his cells. It felt like he could've burst with the fullness, with not feeling alone anymore, with the high of rapture.

When he couldn't bear the vehemence of DeShaun's dick inside him no longer, his voice cried out hoarse and lustful and the sputter of his cum wetted his hand and his stomach. Not too long after DeShaun collapsed on top of him and Marshall wrapped his arms around his friend, holding him close. But he was barely able to breath, panting and his heart beat wildly in his chest, he could feel it knocking against DeShaun's ribs.

And he could feel DeShaun's hand playing with a strand of his hair again. "What's that?", he asked and lazily pointed to what he meant.

DeShaun shuffled to lay next to him and shrugged briefly. "What? I like your hair. It's so wavy", a sluggish smirk. "And it calms you down."

"Calms me down?" What was that supposed to mean? He shook his head slightly. That wasn't important right now. Nothing really was important right now, because the world was fine. He was fine, heavy but content. Also, he liked the hand there and leaned closer to DeShaun. Still a hint of mint on him.

"It's eucalyptus", his friend explained, voice relaxed and barely more than a whisper.

Marshall answered with a low, agreeing hum. "Suits you ..." He opened his eyes again to look at his friend. "What?"

DeShaun smiled at him, a little shy. "You sometimes mumble stuff, even in your sleep. You'll probably still talk in your grave someday. It's kinda ... adorable."

He blanked.

"Anyway ... You feel okay?", his friend asked with concern. "I didn't hurt you or anything? They said, you'll might be a little sore there afterward. But considering the rest of you, that probably won't make much of a difference."

"They?", he asked bewildered.

DeShaun pulled the blanket up. "From the youth center."

"Youth center?" Something really weird was going on here and Marshall didn't like it one bit.

DeShaun sighed silently. "You're a stubborn son of a bitch, I know you would never go there. So I went. You know, getting some info on this stuff. It's not like figuring out how to date girls is easy, but at least we're all in the same boat and can do the mistakes together. But ... you don't have a boat and you can't exactly go to your mom or my mom and ask how to date guys, right? So, I went."

Marshall didn't know if he should be confused, angry, amused or grateful. Until he had decided, he went with trying to understand the situation first. "You went to a youth center and they told you how gay sex worked? So you can teach me? 'Cause I don't have a boat? They must've gone into quite some detail."

"Well, not the people who work there, obviously", DeShaun explained further. "They do counseling and stuff. But, you know, people hang out there, people our age and you can talk to them, too. So I did. It's not as terrible as you think."

Marshall grumbled: "Still, I won't go there. Don't even try."

DeShaun made a small gesture: See, told you.

As a reply he grumbled some more. Clearly, DeShaun knew him too well. One of the pitfalls of being best friends, he assumed. "You're doing even more than enough." And the feeling of gratefulness won. He was glad an relieved, that DeShaun was his friend, who never thought less of him and who always cheered him on.

Again, DeShaun stroked through his hair. "It's not about enough." One more smile, heartfelt and genuine. Then he shoved Marshall's unbruised shoulder with energy for some action. "It probably ain't worth going back to sleep again, mom's gonna call for breakfast soon. Wanna skip school today?"

Marshall shook his head briefly. "Nah, it's fine. Can sleep there just the same." One more deep, savoring breath. Then he pushed himself into a sitting position and vented out a strained curse. "I need a shower first."

DeShaun offered: "We probably have some painkillers somewhere."

"Sounds like the perfect breakfast."

* * *

Steam lingered in the bathroom and on the mirror, Marshall wiped it away with his hand. He didn't look different, the same pointy nose and the same blue eyes and the same brown hair. Wavy, hm? He ran his hand through it, but it didn't feel as nice as when DeShaun did it. The thought made his butt tingle and it wasn't even a memory yet.

His best friend had been right, like always, Marshall would like the memory of them. At least one thing in his life that wasn't fucked up.

He fastened a towl around his waist, but before he left the bathroom, his eyes gazed over the hair clippers sitting on a shelf. A moment passed, then he grabbed the machine and went to work: to cut down his hair to the fraction of an inch. With every strand of hair that fell to the floor, he inclosed one more moment of this night. Something this good and right and pristine needed to be protected. No one should ever touch this memory and stain it.

The door opened and DeShaun stood there, a pile of fresh clothes in his hands. "Hey, I thought you want ... What're you doing?"

Marshall didn't look up from his task. "I'm wiping the slate clean."

"What?", DeShaun asked with audible confusion.

Now he looked to his friend and flashed him a smile. "We gonna make it. You and I, we gonna be big and play all over the country and earn some real money and nobody's ever gonna be disrespecting us again." He turned to the mirror again and cut off another strand of his hair. "Life can be good and we will make that happen." Together.

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me on twitter [@InGenius11](https://twitter.com/InGenius11). I sporadically tweet about my progress, if that's something you're curious about.
> 
> You can follow me on tumblr [PowerBottom Eminem](https://powerbottomeminem.tumblr.com/). I still have more to say about slutty bottom Eminem, if you don't have enough yet.


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